


Illegal Practice

by liketonybutwithanE, LostNotFound92



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Asshole Harvey, Bottom Mike Ross, I have a terrible sense of humor, Its gonna get sexy, Jenny is awesome, M/M, Mike has a potty mouth, Mild threats of violence but in a friendly way, Slow Build, So will Harvey so it's okay, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Top Harvey Specter, Trevor isnt a cunt, Underage Drinking, because Harvey is always an asshole, cause I like food, friendly violence, mikes parents are alive...for now, mild food porn, rachel is irrelevent, sassy donna paulson, underage mike
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-13
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-10-31 08:04:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10895151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liketonybutwithanE/pseuds/liketonybutwithanE, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostNotFound92/pseuds/LostNotFound92
Summary: Mike Ross just graduated high school and is about to embark on his college dream as a student at the prestigious Ivy League Harvard. Along his journey to becoming the best damn lawyer anyone has ever seen, aided by a flawless eidetic memory and legal genius, he meets suave, debonair, top-of-his-graduating-class asshole extraordinaire, Harvey Specter. Unexpected attraction blooms, much to both participant’s dismay, and leads to experiences neither can control. Not that they want to, anyway...





	1. Meet Mike Ross

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome one and all! Its been a while and I am just now getting back into the swing of things so bear with me.  
> The continuation of this wonderful little story depends entirely on you, my darlings. If you like what you see and would like more, I will keep this train-a-moving!  
> Peace, love, good sex and coffee,  
> ~Red  
>   
> What my lovely person just said. Mike and Harvey have been super fun (and a little bit naughty) to work with, so let's hang on to our seats and have fun with this.  
> Let the slow build commence!  
> /tony
> 
> *Side note: neither one of us knows anything about Harvard or the surrounding area. Bupkis, nada, zip, zilch, none. I did some research but that can always be wrong. If you have any corrections, let us know!  
> /tony

Michael Ross cringed in preparation from what was sure to be a bone realigning hug as his mother finished smoothing the clear packing tape on the box broadcasting 'navel oranges - Florida's best' in florescent turquoise lettering. After every box, which had conveniently been liberated from behind the nearest supermarket, had been reconstructed and filled with belongings, his mother had brimmed up and embraced him with all her might. Just as last time, she did not disappoint.  
  
"Oh my god, Michael, I can't believe my little baby is going off to college!" Mike watched as his mother released him to pace the room for what was sure to be the millionth time. As she began her one millionth and first circuit of the room, he was sure she was well on her way to wearing a trail into the old navy blue carpeting; he also felt a twinge of sympathy for the stuffed carnival bear, one of the many he'd won at various family outings, she was wringing in her hands; over the course of the afternoon, her hands had moved steadily upward until they were secured around the critter's fuzzy neon purple neck.  
  
Ever since the momentous evening when Mike received the certified letter stating that his early admission into Harvard was approved, she had been over the moon with excitement and nearly struck stiff with terror all at the same time. The letter had come three weeks ago; he'd lovingly endured constant fussing, reminiscing over dusty baby albums, and enough home cooked food to add a few solid inches to his waistline. But, Rebecca and Milton Ross couldn't have been more proud of him.  
  
In almost a month's time, his life had changed. He had felt the paradigm shift as he'd fumbled through the heavy stationary to touch the snow white paper marking the beginning of his future. Harvard had been his dream since he'd first understood what the law was, and it was finally coming true.  
  
Most of his things, his favorite books, clothes, toiletries, desk fixings and lamp, and external hard drives for his computer, had already been packed and shipped off, leaving just a few things left to be boxed up and stuffed into the back of his Toyota.  
  
"Mom, calm down, please? Before you get yourself worked up? It's not that bad. Harvard's main campus isn't that far and you can call me whenever you want, remember?" She blubbered something unintelligible as she threw her arms around him, and he rubbed her back in small circles, smiling ruefully into her hair. After a solid five minutes of being smothered she let him go, heading for the door saying over her shoulder that he needed to finish his packing and that she needed to finish cooking dinner before his father got home; Milton only had an hour and forty-five minute window before he was do back to straighten up his numbers and figures.  
  
When she turned back to him, her fine-boned hand braced on the door jam, she smiled, eye bright but determined, "We love you, Mikey. Your father and I are extremely proud of you. We're worried, yes, but you are so bright and we want nothing but the best for you. You'll love Harvard." She laughed looking pointedly at the pile of books he had yet to pack. "You'll probably have their library cleaned out in no time, sweetie."  
  
Mike smiled as he ran his hand through his short hair, a nervous habit he had picked up as a child, picturing the enormous shelves and numerous columns and corridors of the Harvard library, and there was sure to be more than one, "I don't know about that, mom. The library there is bound to be huge and I'll be busy studying, too."  
  
"Yes well, that maybe true but don't forget you're still a kid. You can have fun while you're there. It is college after all. Just be careful, honey. Have all the fun you want, just be safe. I don't want you to get mixed up with the wrong kind of people out there, I know what these kids get into nowadays and it's even worse in college when you're around people who drink and do drugs-"  
  
"Mom. Mom? Mom! Calm down, it's ok I promise." Mike was in full 'negate-freak-out' mode as he raised his arms in surrender, then placed his right hand over his heart and grinned wholeheartedly, "I promise to tell the truth and nothing but the truth: I wouldn't and won't risk that and I don't want anything to do with that anyway," Rebecca rolled her eyes at his ill-begotten attempt at humor but allowed him to continue, "I'll be fine, relax. Now, I have to finish this and I'll be down for dinner, okay?"  
  
She took a breath to steady herself as she nodded and left the room.  
  
Yet another panic attack avoided.  
  
Mike understood their trepidation. Leaving home, given his age and lack of worldly knowledge was enough to leave even the hardest of heart parents more than a little panic stricken, but shit, he was worried too! Being seventeen and getting accepted into Ivy League Harvard was a colossal deal by anyone's standards. Having a eidetic memory definitely gave him an over-the-top advantage. It was a gift, or a curse it depended on what day someone asked Mike how he felt about it, he had despised when he was younger.  
  
Grade school had been a true nightmare, gift wrapped and sealed with a 'fuck-I'm-glad-that's-over-with.' Day in and day out of constantly being targeted by the other children because he was too smart to be confined to the same public school jail cell with them for eight hours a day.  
  
Luckily, or unluckily, it all depended on how one looked at the situation, on a balmy fall day as he'd entered junior high school, he'd had the misfortune to come in close contact with three of his tormenters at the same time, and as a roundabout way karma presented him with not only a busted lip and a black eye, but a pocket-sized spitfire who'd not only saved his ass that day by alerting the art history teacher, but also by kicking ass and taking names until security had arrived.  
  
It had earned her a three day suspension and a permanent mark on her record, but as he'd sat outside the nurse's station, waiting on his parents to pick him up, she'd sneered as the vice principle sat her down next to him with a disapproving frown. When the man had turned and strode into his office, quite possibly to call Jenny's mother to inform her of her daughter's misbehavior, she'd turned to Mike, a shit-eating grin spread over her too wide mouth and she'd asked him _where the hell he'd learned to dick up a punch that badly._  
  
She was the only friend he had ever made who didn't care that he was far more intelligent than anyone around him. She didn't take offense to his corrections or explanations, when he whined or complained about the small things she laughed at him and told him to suck that shit up and grow a pair. They had been friends ever since.  
  
An hour later, after packing all his belongings in the few empty boxes left on his bedroom floor, and employing a particularly friendly neighbor to help him rearrange his trunk twice to fit the new comers, he sat at the dinner table, his father having walked through the door ten minutes ago.  
  
After placing his briefcase on the side-table in the foyer he embraced his wife lovingly as she placed the finishing touches on the delectable pot roast and oven broiled vegetables. Mike smiled as he spied the tender kiss Milton planted on Rebecca's neck and high on her right ear.  
  
"Hey, hound dog, she's mine. You're going to have to step in line and take a number," Mike groused from the foot of the staircase. Milton shot a look over his wife's shoulder and grinned, his mirthful expression only made more so by the effect of his thick Coke-bottle glasses he needed from years of eye strain caused by peering at small print on blindingly white paper.  
  
Rebecca cut her husband's reply by stripping off her lobster shaped pot holders and announcing, "Boys, boys, there is more than enough to go around," she shot a look at both her men and laughed as they fumbled for their plates and flatware, "Go sit, Milt, and I'll bring the roast. Mike, can you grab the vegetables from under the warmer?"  
  
"Sure." Taking up the ridiculous holders, Mike eased open the oven door and slid the Dutch oven laded with julienne carrots, asparagus spears, and thick cut squash, zucchini, and spring onion out, and cradling the dish, he trotted forward to the table and placed it in its designated holder.  
  
When Mike sat down, his gaze fixed on the normalcy that he knew he wouldn't have for a long while. It suddenly struck him that he was leaving, and soon. His next breath came out in a shuddering rasp, but he bit the inside of his cheek to cease the tell-tale prick of beginning tears. He would be back home again; home with his parents and he'd have more than enough stories to keep them occupied for hours.  
  
The rest of dinner passed in a blur. They talked about the usual things, keeping conversation and speculation light and Mike figured they were trying to give him a break from the constant pestering; it was very much appreciated.  
  
While Mike helped his mother clean up the kitchen and wash dishes, his father having hastily kissed his wife goodbye and hugging his son a few minutes before with the promise to be home well before midnight, he listened to her hum the theme song to _Hawaii Five O_ and he found himself smiling, knowing how much he would miss it.  
  
It always amazed him how easily he and his parents feel into a routine. When he rinsed the final dregs of flatware and cooking utensils floating in the hot soapy water of the sink and placing them in the dishwasher, he pecked her on the cheek and wished her a good night. As he made his way to the stairwell, he told her he would see the both of the in the morning before he left for main campus.  
  
The second he closed his bedroom door his phone vibrated in his pocket.  
  
_sup nerd herd?_  
  
It was Jenny. He grinned as he typed out a quick reply, knowing that if he dallied she'd have both his virtual over the text connection and his actual ass when she next saw him.  
  
_just finished dinner. bout 2 finish packing._  
  
He sent the message off and was about to set the phone on his bedside table when it dinged impatiently at him.  
  
_awesome, open ur window._  
  
Mike stared at his phone for a good ten seconds before he heard the muffled thunk of a rock hitting his window. Scuttling over a pile of clothes hangers and around a skeletal chest-of-drawers he wrenched his curtains and blinds up to stare out into the darkening abyss.  
  
There Jenny stood, her trademark jeans and band tee leaving her arms bare to the late summer night chill, her loose bun of ash blonde hair a beacon in the encroaching gloom. The annoyed look on her face spoke volumes. He pushed the window up to accommodate her height, moving off to the side as she crawled through the window, something that was becoming more and more frequent for some unknown reason.  
  
"The hell took you so long? I've been out there for nearly twenty minutes man," she complained, rubbing the gooseflesh of her arms to ward off the chill.  
  
"Sorry, just finished dinner. Why've you been out there so long? You usually don't come over until nine and it's only half after seven now." Jenny didn't answer immediately, instead choosing to flop down on the now barren bed, barley covered with a thin sheet and quilt-patched comforter he'd found lying in the bottom of the linen closet.  
  
"Well," she started in a philosophical tone, "someone is leaving for fuckin' Harvard tomorrow so I figured I would stop by early and all that. Excuse me for being considerate, turd." Mike rolled his eyes and pulled the window down again, before going to sit beside her prone form.  
  
She was fiddling with the ends of the faded sheet like she wanted to say something but wasn't quite sure how she wanted to go about doing it. Jenny, for as long as Mike had known her, wasn't big on goodbyes or sentimental emotional topics; she'd rather leave it with a snarky comment or a promise to kick your ass later and that was all there was to it. So Mike was surprised when she sat up, threw her skinny arms around his neck and hugged him so tight and so long he thought he might expire from lack of oxygen.  
  
"I'm gonna miss you, Mike. I know this is your dream and all that and I'm happy for you, I really am, but don't forget about the little people who are still here. M'kay?"  
  
Mike smiled as a tear slowly made its way down his cheek. He didn't know what he was going to do without her after he left. It had always been the two of them. As she held him, he chose not to acknowledge the suspicious wet warmth of his neck and shoulder where Jenny had placed her head; holding her just as tightly until she released him, nonchalantly wiping the tell-tale damp from her cheeks. It killed him to see her like this.  
  
"I'll miss you too, Jen. But this isn't goodbye so don't get all mushy on me. We can still talk all the time and I'm only a few hours away if you ever wanna visit, ya know?" His hand moved to push at a wayward wisp of bun that had somehow managed to escape.  
  
She scoffed, knocking his hand away playfully and shaking her head. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. When did you grow up and become a man? Huh? I'm suppose to be the logical one in this relationship, remember?"  
  
"Logical? You? The same person who almost got arrested freshman year for spray-painting the school marquee in gay pride colors?"  
  
"Uh, yeah. Totally logical. It was gay pride week, Mike."  
  
He laughed. That's why they were friends.  
  
After an hour and a half of mindless XBox, she completely let him win even if she denied it, and another hour of explaining all the ins and outs of his road trip plan, Jenny decided to head home before her mom noticed she was missing again, Mike cringed that memories from the first time, it hadn't been pretty. As he looked on, she did her little acrobatic act out his window and flipped him off over her shoulder as he waved good bye.  
  
Some things would really never change.  
  
Mike got up early just as he'd planned the next morning, his alarm clock going off at 4:45 to scare him out of the little sleep he did manage to get. He dressed for comfort as he was going to need it with off the mental discomfort of the oncoming day. On went a pair of his old jeans, the ones with the holes and that random mustard stain that wouldn't come out, and his _Trek this!_ tee Jenny had gotten him for his sixteenth birthday last year.  
  
As he left his bedroom, precariously balancing his laptop case, phone, wallet and keys while putting the blanket and sheet in the hamper to be washed, he couldn't help but smile as he passed the dozens of framed pictures lining the walls. Everything from family vacations to Mike's senior prom, which he'd taken Jenny too because she threatened to cut off his dick in his sleep, it was weird to think he was leaving all this to start something new, but at the same time he was so excited he didn't now what to do with himself.  
  
When he got down stairs he was greeted with a small to-go breakfast of sweet blueberry muffins, bagged orange slices and coffee attached to a note scribbled in him mother's ridiculously neat handwriting:  
  


_Mikey,_

_We can't even begin to tell you_

_how proud we are of you! Drive safe_

_and call us when you get settled._

_Show 'em up baby!_

_Love, Mom and Dad_

  
Mike smiled as he grabbed his breakfast, tucking the note in the pocket of his bag, Jenny steadfastly called it his man-purse, along with his laptop, and other necessities and headed to the car. Only to immediately stop when he walked out the door and stood on the porch, watching the pouring rain pelt the sidewalk and neatly manicured lawn.  
  
"Motherfucker," Mike breathed. Retrieving his keys, he popped the locks from the dry safety of the porch, then jogged to the car and hopped in. He thanked his lucky stars he had already loaded everything so the few things he had left made it in his bag. Mike cranked up the car, put her in reverse, and began the winding route out of his neighborhood. Even with the early hour, heading through the always busy streets of New York was no small task. It was something every NYC citizen had to come to appreciate or he or she would go bananas.  
  
He loved everything about the always busy, overly crowded city. Even when it took him almost 3 hours to make it through traffic so he could hit the freeway.  
The drive itself was fairly uneventful, except for the hobo who tried to swindle Mike into giving him a ride when he stopped for gas, something he would rather forget if at all possible.  
  
The closer he got to Cambridge the more congested traffic became; with everyone showing up for the fall semester all at once, it seemed. Things were looking pretty hectic the closer he got to campus.  
  
The more of campus he saw as he drove in search of his dorm, the more chaotic the situation became. When he pulled into the large parking lot designated for the building his registration paperwork said would be his dorm, he cut the engine and sat for a minute. His gaze flittered to and fro and he took in the view of scatterbrained students as they tried to find their dorms and those few who had brought their parents struggling in vain to get rid of them for fear of embarrassment.  
  
It hadn't really hit him how real it was until then, as he sat clutching his empty coffee cup so tightly the paper crumpled with a synthetic sigh. He was here for good now. The next seventeen weeks were going to be his freshman year of his college career. It was only a chance glance at his phone that alerted him he was about to be late for said freshman orientation.  
  
_Shit!_  
  
Hastily grabbing his bag, _not a man-purse, Jenny!_ , he tumbled out of the open car door. After a second check of the locks and a key check, Mike hightailed it for the building.


	2. Meet Harvey Specter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 my lovelies!!

Illegal Practice

Chapter Two

Harvey Specter was beyond annoyed. If there was any other word to accurately express his supreme displeasure, well he couldn't think of it, and therefore it didn't exist. His odious attitude permeated from every pore as he sat brooding in the passenger's seat.

From the time he'd gotten up this morning, everything and anything had been against him. From his car failing to start no matter how many times he cranked it, the orange check engine light blinking laughingly at his every attempt, forcing him to hitch a ride with Donna and listen as she gloated for the six and three-quarter miles to campus about his lack of following her suggestion of having the engine light looked at, to now as he casually propped himself against the back wall of the reception area in Harvard's oldest, most prestigious building, Austin Hall, waiting for the first year students to arrive.  
The few that had already arrived, four knock-kneed, pinstripe wearing prepubescents and a grungy looking middle-aged woman, openly eyed him in his perfectly pressed white button down and black slacks, no doubt stereotyping him as the typical Harvard dick with an ego to match.

Damn, if they weren't dead on.

But what could he say? When you're good, you're good.  
But damn, he was the best and wasn't ashamed to tell anyone within ear's reach. He'd put in his time and earned his cocky demeanor and flat out arrogance; hard work and a natural, irresistible charm dictated that.  
And with all his accomplishments and awards and recommendations, damn it, Harvey was getting tired of being told, ahem, volunteered for activities he had absolutely no interest in, activities far beneath his vast shelf of superiority.

Especially when it came to doing work for the Student Leaders. Being the best student HLS had seen since the turn of the century wasn't all it was cracked up to be.  
They, one Jessica Pearson, the Dean of Harvard Law School herself especially, were always signing him up for charity work and obscure functions in order to make HLS look as prosperous as possible in the public eye. Only in retrospect would she throw in some bull about it looking good on his record and making him a number one candidate for any law firm after graduation; always the easiest way in getting him to do the harebrained functions and appearances in the first place.  
This was especially true when it came to welcoming the new first year students.

...Oh joy.

He'd never needed a drink more in his life.

Harvey had been tasked with managing the welcoming committee and organizing everything for the orientation, which was ridiculous because if there was one things he was far from, it was a party planner, damn it. Lucky for him, Donna Paulsen, the glorious creature that she was, had a solution for everything.

She would strut in as always, her copper hair pulled into a stylish chignon and Vera Wang pumps paired with the impeccable Dolce and Gabbana dress, making her look the picture of professionalism and beauty as she organized and administrated all possible venues into submission.

Now she stood alongside him, the Hermés scarf draped across her shoulders fluttering in the slight breeze of the central air as she, too, inspected the meager offerings the orientation had to offer just yet. Her expressive brown eyes lined with just the right amount of kohl, narrowed in a certain way that did not bode well for the attendees of her orientation.

Beside her, Harvey continued to glower at anything with the misfortune to make it's presence known in his line of sight. He'd given up his pacing some time ago, and now simply allowed for a measure of extreme annoyance to settle about his features.

"You're pouting, Harvey. If you keep it up you will scare away the kiddies." Donna was inspecting her already flawless nails under the soft rays of mid-morning sunlight that filtered through Austin Hall's tall windows.

"What makes you think that's not my plan?" Harvey refused to even allow his lips to move more than necessary. This gave his mouth and face a rather stiff look that would have been comical had the circumstances been different.

"Uh, because you can't remember your own social, much less scheme without me." _Damn it. I hate when she's right._

She took her place by his side on the wall and scanned the room, meeting every eye without hesitation. That was one of the many fabulous things about Donna, she was absolutely fearless and loyal as hell. There was nothing she couldn't figure out nor was there a human alive who could keep a secret from her, especially Harvey. She was like a spy with confidential informants everywhere.

Donna and Harvey were thick as thieves and had been that way for so long it was hard to remember a time when they hadn't been. So, at the age of eighteen, fresh out of high school and hopelessly wet-behind-the-ears, when he'd said Harvard, her only response was, "When do we leave?"

Crazy how that was almost four years ago.

"So, from what I hear our lovely Dean found a real genius among the usual dick applicants." Her eyes were still methodically scanning the room, apparently looking for the genius in question. A few more lost souls had meandered into the open space and were congregating near the vast shelves lined with certificates and awards and other such acknowledgements of intellectual superiority.

"Yeah, so?"

"Did you not just hear me say genius, Harvey? As in makes Einstein-his-bitch-type genius. His test scores and application were insanely good; shit, every school he applied to practically begged for him, and that's just because they saw how he practically pencil raped the Bar." Donna's laugh at his quirked eyebrow startled numerous orientation-goers, causing them to flinch and look about like frightened deer.

"...Do you need a moment alone? And why are you snooping through files again anyway? I thought you had earned from the last incident." An incident involving a very close shave in being caught. They'd both agreed never to speak of the specifics again.

"First of all, I already had my moment, thank you sir. And secondly, we agreed never to bring that incident up again. Third, I was bored in the office and decided to scope out the fresh meat so to speak. Sue me, oh mighty lawyer god."

Harvey let out a huff and rolled his eyes in a attempt to garner some patience, the woman was a miracle worker but she could drive you nuts in a heart beat.

"You're a pain in my ass."

"No, I'm Donna." She tilted her head to the side to smile radiantly at him.

Harvey let out a small laugh and pushed away from the wall. Best to get this hell-fest over and done with sooner rather than later. "It's about time we got this thing rollin'. The faster it starts the faster we can leave."

He made his way across the smooth polished flooring, towards the far entrance to shut the door, signifying the room was in conference and did not want to be disturbed. When he was directly in front of the door, hand firmly holding the brass knob, a blur topped with blondish hair collided into his side, knocking the air right out of his lungs with a comic whoosh.

Could his day get any worse?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TBC! Ok, my beauties! Here is the time for you to give me any suggestions on what you would like to possibly see happen to our favorite dysfunctional couple! My brain can’t decide so I wanted you all to have a say in what you think should happen! Please feel free to PM me if you have anything.  
> Love, Red


	3. Trouble with a capital F.U.C.K.E.D

Chapter Three

Mike was speechless. Which for someone with his vocabulary was near damn impossible.

In his haste to make the orientation on time, he'd bolted through the door without really thinking if anyone would actually be behind it. Of course, as everything in his life turned out to be, he had the best luck and crashed into a body.

Fuck. Embarrassing wasn't even the word to describe this one. Mortified didn't cover it either. Humiliated came close but not still no dice.

To make matters worse, the guy was impossibly gorgeous. After he had regained what little grey matter he had left, he lost that too when he actually got a good look at his latest disaster victim. Even as Mike struggled to stem the flow of brain drool that was currently gushing all over the guy's expensive looking shoes, he was receiving his very stern talking to (at least that's what appeared to be happening as the man was looking at him like a child being scolded by a very annoyed parent; the emphasis on annoyed).

As he grumbled about who-knew-what, seriously what good was his memory if he couldn't replay a simple two-person conversations later, Mike basked in the chance to observe and admire. He had deep brown eyes and, of course, the most perfect hair Mike had ever seen. Most people their age (well, college age) would look over-done, or fake if they dressed like him, but this guy wore the casual dress look like it had been tailored just for him. And dear God, he'd been born to wear those pants.

"Are you even listening to a word I'm saying to you?"

Oh shit...

Mike did a quick reassess in his mind, opened his mouth and did what he did naturally. "Yes, actually I was. You said, and I quote, 'What the fuck!? Watch where the hell you're going damn it, this isn't a play ground. This is the worst fuckin' day.' then you mumbled something I didn't quite catch, not because i wasnt listening but because you mumbled it, then it was, 'just get to your seat and get out of my face...are you even listening to a word I'm saying to you?' Does that sound about right?"

Grade A smart ass.

The expression painted on both the guy he'd nearly flattened and the redhead at his side was exactly what he was expecting as he cocked an eyebrow at the thread of silence stretching between the two. It was the look he always got when people were first exposed to his gift. Completely flabbergasted and utterly amazed. It was beyond annoying. Though Mike was having a tough time coming up with reasons as to why he minded having those gorgeous eyes on him.

"How the hell did you do that?"

Mike shrugged narrow shoulders. "I was listening"

"No, shit." Mike knew there was an eye roll attached somewhere in that statement but he was having trouble why sarcasm was rude to begin with.

"Well you asked..."

"What are you? Some kind of gen-" The guy stopped abruptly, mouth hanging open around half formed syllables, then looked directly at the red head standing next to him giving her a shut-the-fuck-up look.

The man crossed his arms to bring a hand up to massage the bridge of his nose, clear impatience written in his posture. "You must be the rookie Jessica found. The one who did unspeakable things to the bar with a pencil." 

The redhead stifled a snicker into a manicured hand.

"Uh...yes?" Mike was totally confused. Who the hell was this guy?

He was about to start dictating his own questions when the door swung open and the snap click of impossibly high heels and the somewhat impatient sound of someone clearing their throat directed everyone's attention to the front of the room.

The man sighed. "I suggest you find your seat, Rookie. It's about to start and you don't want to miss your orientation, more so you don't want to make her Royal Highness wait; that would be bad for your health." He and the redhead, who, before taking her seat in a wingback chair to the left of the pretty windows, gave Mike a very obvious once over, turned to leave, leaving Mike awkwardly standing by the door with a few of the spectators who had yet to take their seats.

Mike's eyes were glued to the amazing sight that was this guy's ass right up until they disappeared through a door at the end of the gigantic hall.

...Damn.

Fortunately of his ego, no one saw him practically devour the guy alive as he walked away... at least he hoped no one did. Knowing and accepting his preferences toward the male sex from before his time in junior high made it very easy for him to forget that there are still certain people that could and most definitely would start shit over it. 

Especially here.

Plus, that guy was way, way, way out of his league.

"I don't know if you plan to stand the whole time, but there are some of us who would like to take our seats so can you move, please?" A voice quietly hissed somewhere near his shoulder.

Mike was pulled from his naughty daydreaming when a coffee colored hand grabbed his shoulder and pulled him out of the way. The hand belonged to a not-too-happy looking young woman with long pin-straight brown hair and an even skin tone that most women would kill for. Even the irritated moue she flashed Mike didn't detract from her beauty.

"I, uh, I'm sorry." The woman's face seemed to soften a bit at Mike's apology; something in his face must have garnered a decent amount of her pity because she smiled indulgently.

"Don't worry about it. Come on, we can take the seats toward the back, I think that's all that's open anyway now." That last part was said with no subtle hint of annoyance at him. Together the two scuttled towards the middle back row of seats. Once settled Mike turned toward her again, offering his hand along with what he hoped appeared to be a properly chastised look. "My name is Mike, by the way, Mike Ross. And I really am sorry about that."

"I'm Rachel, Rachel Zane. Don't worry about it, honestly. I'm just a little bent outta shape that they're making me do this damn orientation again; I'm a sophomore, for shit's sake." Rachel scoffed audibly and rolled her eyes, but remained seated.

"Wait, you're a sophomore? How old are you?" Mike was totally baffled, this chick looked almost his age.  
"Yeah; I'm twenty. I enrolled when I was nineteen, but I'm having to retake a few courses due to some technical hiccup that was never resolved, hence the reason I'm sitting here now. Sadly, that doesn't go for the royal dick of our institution, he gets away with everything and gets whatever he wants." Her glare zeroed in automatically to the door where Mike's hottie and his redheaded companion had exited not too long ago.

"I'll take a wild guess and say the guy you're talking about is the same guy I nearly flattened..." The glare turned into a stare that would have made Rambo shit himself. Yep, definitely the same guy.

"Yeah..." Rachel said slowly, puzzling out the funny hitch in Mike's voice. "His name is Harvey Specter and the redhead tagging along is Donna Paulsen. Since you're new, here is some friendly advice; stay clear of them. He's a total dick and she'd probably kill someone if he snapped his fingers. Harvey's a senior and practically rules this place but don't let the smooth guy act fool you, he's bad news."

Mike wanted to ask a million questions about this Harvey Specter with the gorgeous face and heart-stopping physique, but was cut short when a tall woman with long hair appeared on stage. Her statuesque frame and regal standing called every eye to center stage with little effort. After a moment to adjust the microphone and straighten the papers atop her podium, the woman began the orientation:

"Hello, and welcome to Harvard Law School." The words rang through the large room with a weight that was meant to be felt and deeply respected. Everyone soul in the room dared not breath. "I am your Dean, Jessica Pearson, and I am sure you all understand what a privilege and honor it is to be joining our family and contributing to the Harvard legacy. With that being said, I will keep this brief by getting straight to the point," Dean Pearson paused a moment to survey the prospects seated before her. Stern eyes trailing from one face to the next, she continued, her next words were spoken in a tone that promised severe retribution if contradicted.

"Harvard is not for slackers nor those who will half-ass their way to what they think will be their graduation. That is assuredly the fastest course of action to expulsion from this program. We will not tolerate cheating of any kind; and any dangerous activities or otherwise compromising situations will not go unnoticed without proper punishment. You were all chosen from a very long list of applicants, each one of which would kill to be where you are sitting now. It would be very wise not to waste this opportunity." She took a long sweep of the room to get her point across. The second her eyes landed on Mike, a small smile quirked at the corner of her lips.

Yeah, 'cause thats not creepy or intimidating at all...

"But, of course, I want to welcome you all and wish you the very best in your studies and everything thereafter. This is a wonderful place to expand and challenge ones' self as long as you stay focused and work toward your ultimate goal. And with that I will wrap this up and allow you to get settled into your new home." Silence, excluding the sharp click of her heels, followed her descent from the raised platform.

The second Dean Pearson cleared the room, a cacophony of jumbled, loud whispers and slightly panicked voices filled the room. This woman knew the definition of 'short and sweet' very well apparently...

Rachel was completely unaffected by the speech and was still wearing the same bored-slightly-annoyed look that had been on her face since the speech began. She glanced sideways, breaking away from studying her cuticles to straighten her a-line skirt and brush at imaginary lint. "She gives that same speech every year. Does it to freak out the fresh meat and see who is worth keeping and who can be shipped off. It's a load of bull, don't be fooled." She was already up and heading for the door the second the coast was clear. "We got lucky though. Usually she is on a rampage for almost an hour talking about how standards will be met or you can pack your shit."  
Mike gave her a skeptical look. "An hour? Really? Wow..." He wouldn't get use to inane things like that that people did for no reason. "So, what do we do now?"

"Well, you will go finish in-processing and all that fun stuff, while I go to my room." She gave him a small apologetic smile, "Sorry, I've already been there, done that, sold the tee for profit. It won't take you long though, I would help you out but I have to get to work soon and I have some things to take care of before I can head off."  
Mike returned the smile. He replied sunnily, "Don't worry about it, thank you though. I'll see you around I'm sure." He thrust his hand out awkwardly and after a funny look at the strange young man, Rachel shook it and the pair parted ways with a tentative goodbye. After watching her disappear around a corner, Mike followed the rest of the freshmen and began what was to be a very long day of paper work and in-processing.

Mike never saw Harvey or Donna again that day, which bordered on slightly disappointing to a blessing in disguise. It was around five when Mike and the rest of his fellow freshmen made it to the dorms to find their rooms and their soon to be roommates and like the rest of his group, he was laden with boxes and a huge duffel bag slung over his shoulder retrieved from his car. Mike found that this was a treat; his building was one of the newest built. The downside being it was located a ways away from almost anything convenient on campus. And although there was some dissent among some of his lower classmen as to the validity of the regulation stating that newbies needed roommates, Mike had no problem with the idea of a roommate. He'd always been a people person; he was actually looking forward to having someone to live with and get to know over the next few months or so, at least until he could get an apartment.

He found his dorm with ease, even with the hallway crowded full of people rushing to find their own rooms. Mike took out his new key and walked into the spacious and dimly lit common area. After flipping the light switch he saw the room was fully furnished with a sofa and two love seats, a flat screen tv, and a full kitchen. The doors that led to either room faced opposite each other. Mike could hear music coming from the door on the left side of the room.

Looks like I'm taking the right side.

After opening his room's door, he surveyed the double bed, chest of drawers and desk with satisfaction. The closet to the right of the bed was a modest size and would more than hold of Mike's things. He dropped his things on his bed and halfway began unpacking and organizing what he could. He was already in awe and that was before he walked into his bathroom. Spacious countertops gleamed porcelain next to the small but beautiful walk-in shower. "Can someone say jackpot?" Mike breathed to himself.

He was taking the rest of his boxes in from the common to be unpacked when he heard a tap on his door. He opened it to be greeted by a goofy grinning brunette holding a Xbox controller in one hand and a half-eaten donut in the other. "What's up, man? The name is Trevor. Totally glad to see I finally have a roomie, welcome and make yourself comfy. Mi casa es su casa, yeah?" This was all said so very fast the Mike couldn't help but return the goofy grin, all of ten seconds and he already liked him.

"Yeah, thanks. My name is Mike, by the way."

"Oh yeah, that's right. You're suppose to be that new genius kid, right? The one who is still jail bate with the insane memory or whatever. Rumor has it you gave the Bar exam a hard one up the ass, man."

"You are the second person to say that to me today..." What was it with these people and their sudden onset fascination with rough ass play?

"Damn, really? Who was the other person?" Apparently Trevor found that three and a half minutes meant automatically granted entry into someone's personal space. He shoved off from his slouched position at the door frame and moved to sit in the desk chair as he wait for Mike's answer.

"Harvey Specter."

"That dick? What would that know-it-all douche bag know? Stay clear dude, that guy is trouble with a capital F.U.C.K.E.D." A sudden noise caught Trevor's attention and sent him out the room yelling something about not being a rage quitting pussy...

Yeah, so that was... interesting.

By the time Mike had finished enough unpacking to make him comfortable for the night it was already ten, and he was exhausted. Luckily, his bed clothes and pillows had been packed together for just this reason. Since it was so late he didn't want to bother his parents knowing they had to work in the morning, he sent them both a quick text saying he made it and everything was fine and he would talk to them tomorrow afternoon.

After a quick shower and brushing his teeth to the rhythm of the Gilligan's Island theme song, Mike slid into his new bed. The second he relaxed his muscles his mind just wandered. Normally a nightmare for someone like him, Mike's grey matter was in overload and provided a pleasant distraction. But the last thing he remembered thinking about, was the one and only, Harvey Specter.


	4. The Best Damn Scotch in La La Land

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! It's been an insane couple of weeks. Hopefully I can motivate myself and Belles to kick out the next chapter within the next week or so! Enjoy lovlies!

The Instructor's lounge was one of Harvey's favorite places to waste time. Why? Put in the simplest terms, because free coffee and a moment to breathe were priceless when one's entire life seemed to play itself out right in front of one's eyes. Looking back, even when he was a child, Harvey knew he would end up here in the great halls of Harvard School of Law. It had practically been planned from birth; being that his father had been one of the best New York had ever seen and would ever see until Harvey himself seated himself at one of the most prestigious law firms NYC had to offer. It was only natural that they expected their oldest to follow in his father's footsteps, and that's exactly what he did.

Harvey had studied his ass off in high school just to apply to one school. Harvard. It was the only application he sent in; there was no plan B school, no backup plan. If Harvard didn't want him then he obviously didn't deserve it. His interview was a piece of cake.

He'd walked in, dressed to the nines in a gorgeous Armani suit that'd cost him half a year's salary, that paired with his irresistible Specter charm and as they say, the rest was history. He was in after just a twenty minute interview (ten of which he spent getting the secretary's number). That had been the real start of everything for him.

His freshman year it took him a solid minute and a half to get adjusted to college life and his classes; the pace had definitely changed from high school and his life back home. Luckily, having Donna made the adjustment less a pain in the ass... and more of a pain in the ass while being shit faced surrounded by beautiful college girls. Every guys dream.

Two months before the end of his first semester is when he took control and let everyone know just what a Specter can do. No one knew the law like Harvey. No one. Natural talent combined with good looks and grade A charm put him in the perfect position to run the campus without really trying. The professors admired his natural ability to think his way out of any legal debacle, while his fellow students both envied and respected him.

He wasn't stupid, of course. He knew that he'd made enemies of certain fellow students, those who hadn't stood at attention and recognized who he was and more importantly, what he could do. Those who'd tried to cow him into taking the lesser role to their senior or junior status had had their proverbial asses handed to them in no less than half a second's time. In short, he knew that there were those who called him the Royal Douche, Harvard's Dickfuck and Jessica's Errand Boy, with plenty of variations in between.

Did he care? Hell no.

He worked for it, hell, he deserved it. Name calling was juvenile at best and equated to nothing but fear, and fear was the highest form of respect. Respect was key in the game of life.

Dear old dad made that clear, Harvey mused as he sipped relatively decent coffee from his travel carafe. The bitter brew was sweetened only slightly by half a teaspoon of sugar. It more than made up for the catastrophe of a morning thus far.

"HEY!" Harvey jumped half a mile in the air.

"What the fuck, Donna!?"

"Uh, where the hell have you been? Lala land? Have you heard nothing I've been saying to you?" The woman scoffed and draped a cotton dishcloth over the front of her silk blouse before chancing to sip delicately at the espresso clasped in a manicured hand. The potent drink teased Harvey's senses with promises of vitality and energy but he had to resist. He'd already had two this morning and the clock hadn't even struck ten o'clock yet.

"Honestly? Yeah. And I'll have you know they have great scotch there; they even offered to make me their king, but of course I told them my schedule wouldn't allow it."

"Hardy har har... I swear, Harvey." Donna continued to nurse her cup of caffeinated heaven. "I was talking about the Bar defiler who very nearly flattened you not thirty minutes ago or have you forgotten already?"

Harvey grimaced, gesturing vaguely towards his abused suit trousers and posterior. "I wish I could forget." His ass still hurt.

"I'm sure." Donna's expression clearly conveyed absolutely zero sympathy. "Anywhoo, I was trying to tell you that he has two classes with you. I know what you're thinkin, 'why the hell is she telling me this like I care?' Well, my ever conceited friend, I am telling you this because he quite obviously has to be a genius to have tested out of all the pre-req's and be taking the class as a freshman. More to the point, if you don't watch out you may have some competition..."

There were many things about Donna that Harvey found unnerving: the way she brushed her teeth (across instead of up and down; it literally gave him chills), how she chewed on gummy worms, and even the fact that she slept in socks, but the one that takes the cake is how she gets this glint in her eye when she knows something you don't and she. Will. Not. Tell.

"...Donna?"

"Hm?"

"Don't you hmm me, woman! You're up to something. I don't like that look."

"I have no earthly idea to what you are referring to."

"Oh, I'm sure you don't. Just like you didn't know what I was talking about when that crazy bitch from the bar was stalking my apartment." Harvey still checked regularly, slotting his blinds to scan for that beat-up five-speed lurking under the only working street lamp on his street.

"Hey! She was in a very emotionally and spiritually turbulent time in her life. Plus, she explicitly said it wasn't stalking, just making sure you were breathing and eating right four to twelve times a day depending on her schedule and if her dad let her have to truck that night."

"...I hate you."

"Oh, I know you do. You're welcome." Donna drained her cup and placed it in the sink.

"If he really hated you, Donna, he wouldn't be having this conversation."

Both Harvey and Donna turned to find the one, the only Jessica Pearson standing directly behind them. "As true as that is, it was unnecessary, she always wins." One pristine winged eyebrow was arched in subtle amusement.  
"Well, Mr. Specter that might be a problem considering it's your ability to win and always win that the law firms that will be hiring you, when you graduate, are looking for." Never allow the statement that Dean Pearson did not know how and where to hit were it hurt most to pass another's lips.

Donna's smirk was a mile wide. An expression Harvey very much resented; yeah, he could get on with a little humor at someone else's expense, but when it was him, that shit wasn't cool. "Don't worry, it's only me he loses to. You know, 'cause I'm the always-awesome Donna."

"Well, 'always-awesome' Donna, would you mind if I spoke to Mr. Specter for a moment?" The Dean's marble face revealed nothing but Harvey wasn't willing to bet that this conversation was going to be one that he would enjoy.  
"Not at all, Dean Pearson. Be gentle, he can be kinda fragile, gotta use those hypoallergenic soaps and all." Smile in place, and with a quick glance at Harvey, Donna grabbed her purse and coat and left... Harvey... all alone. 

Jessica Pearson was not one to pussy foot around. Step one of the infamous Pearson beast, seclude prey...  
There was a moment of pause, a stretch in time that shouldn't terrify Harvey on some level that was buried deep and would never see the light of day. Pearson didn't allow him to wallow in his hidden anxiety for too long, instead choosing to move across the lounge and seat herself in a wingback chair. She took a moment to smooth her already immaculate skirt and then settled herself to stare at Harvey with an intensity rivaled by few. "As I am sure you know, Mr. Specter, your future has everything, all your aspirations and interests, riding on the outcome of this year. The firms, the truly talented practices who would do things of questionable legality to have you, get serious about hiring potential lawyers around the start of senior year and follow through up until graduation. They want to be impressed every step of the way.

"And I have no doubt they will be utterly impressed with what you have done here these last few years. Which is why I am going to give you this small amount of advice: do not fuck up. All of your past indiscretions and fuck ups have been minor enough to not pop up on radar, or they just didn't matter, however the smallest of things can ruin everything we have worked for. Stay off out of trouble and keep your nose clean, become a hermit if that will get you through the next ten months, I really don't care."

Harvey had to give himself credit, he took that lecture like a boss - didn't try to interrupt, didn't storm out of the room like a child, didn't tell her to fuck off or ride a dick (the last one was mostly out of respect for all she had done for him, but there were definitely times he thought about it.) No, instead he sat there calmly and actually listened to the shit she was giving him.

"I hear you loud and clear. Don't fuck up. Don't lose it. Don't breathe. Don't smoke pot. Don't eat spicy foods 'cause it will set your asshole on fire. Check. Check. And checkity check." Harvey moved to make way for the door. He had taken his lumps like a good little student and was more than ready to leave.

The Dean's sigh truly was put-upon. "Harvey, this is no joke. This is your life and career we are talking about. I suggest you get your shit together and act like the Harvard School of Law graduate you are soon to be." She didn't bother waiting for a reply, just gracefully swooping out of her seat and walked out of the room leaving Harvey to stare at the door she left through for a good couple of minutes (entirely for the purpose of restraining his indignation) before he said fuck it and left to find Donna. She'd more than likely have a delightfully interesting monologue pertaining to the harangue he'd just endured.

Get his shit together, indeed. Good thing there was a good Thai place on campus.


End file.
